


Nectar

by marginaliana



Category: Historical Farm (UK TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, supremely self-indulgent on the part of the author
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 07:46:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17824736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marginaliana/pseuds/marginaliana
Summary: "Can't believe you've never tasted honeysuckle before," said Alex, leaning back against the grassy hillock and letting his shoulder rest against Peter's.





	Nectar

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Alex's [instagram post](https://www.instagram.com/p/BsT1mJ5FQdp/).

"Can't believe you've never tasted honeysuckle before," said Alex, leaning back against the grassy hillock and letting his shoulder rest against Peter's. The air beneath the curtain of branches was summer warmed and thick with golden scent. "Your poor, deprived childhood."

"It was tragic," Peter said solemnly, tilting inwards until his hair brushed against the top of Alex's ear. "We didn't even have a single chicken, either."

"Horrible." Alex reached up and plucked a blossom from a branch, handing it over. "Here."

"Remind me what I'm supposed to do again?" Peter asked slyly. "Just put it to my mouth and suck?" He proceeded to do just that, brushing the blossom against his lips and then sliding his tongue into it to suck out the sweetness.

It made Alex shiver. This thing between them was relatively new, and he kept finding himself surprised by how utterly un-shy Peter was. "Tease," he said, voice low in his throat.

"What are you going to do about it?"

Alex held still for a moment, then rolled abruptly over, straddling Peter's lap. He reached above him and plucked a handful of blossoms, parted the petals of one and drew it up over Peter's chin.

"Alex," Peter whispered. He lifted his mouth for a kiss but Alex ignored it, licking at the sticky trail of sap instead, feeling the rasp of stubble against his lips. He flicked aside the first blossom and moved further along, pressing another flower to the skin behind Peter's ear, tickling first with the tips of the petals and then pressing down hard at the hinge of his jaw. Peter's lips parted; he moaned out a breath.

Suddenly the kerchief tied about Alex's neck seemed impossibly restrictive. Alex reached up with his free hand and tugged it off, abandoning it where it fell. Peter's kerchief followed seconds later. Alex pinched off another flower and bit the stem between his teeth, lowered his head to smear sap down the line of Peter's neck.

Peter was hard now, panting, his hands clenched hard on Alex's hips. "A—Alex—"

Alex slid a hand behind his neck and tugged until Peter arched up into his sap-streaked tongue. It didn't take much persuasion. Peter's kiss was eager, wanting, and he stretched up to follow when Alex pulled back a little.

"Is that what you want, then?" Alex murmured. "To suck?"

Peter groaned. "Yeah, yes," he said. "Let me—"

Alex pushed up and over until he was on his back. He reached to undo his breeches but Peter's hands were already there, fumbling and eager. Then Alex's cock was bare in the afternoon sunlight and Peter was dipping his head.

His mouth was hotter than the sun, slicker than sap. Alex curled one hand in the grass just to ground himself, to keep from pushing up too hard and too greedily. But Peter didn't seem to mind the half-stifled thrust of hips, just took him deeper, groaning and sucking at him as if he tasted as good as nectar.

"Peter—"

The intensity of it brought all of Alex's senses to full. There was sweat collecting on his back and thighs; his hair was full of dirt and he could smell fresh grass. He put his other hand on Peter's shoulder to follow the bobbing of his head, to remind himself that this was real and his to touch.

"God. Peter." Alex wanted to savor this, every sweet suck, every glimmer of Peter's hair in the sunlight as it wavered through the branches. Wanted to keep it, not as a moment preserved in amber but as a flower, budding, growing, to be tended carefully into bloom. 

He hung on as long as he could, but it was too exquisite to last. Peter was right there, wreathed in the scent of honeysuckle and sex, and Alex came in slow rolling pulses, shuddering, desperately panting to take in the golden afternoon air.

When he could think again, Alex looked down. Peter was grinning, and he reached sideways to smugly pluck another flower and suck out the nectar.

"You look like the cat that got the cream," Alex said.

"I don't think I've got it yet."

Alex laughed. "I suppose not. What would you like, then?"

"Can you—" Peter's gestures indicated that Alex should stay still and he did, even as Peter scrambled up to straddle his shoulders, unfastening his drawers. Alex reached up to guide him, hands to Peter's hips and then inwards to his thighs. He parted his lips and tilted his head back; Peter pushed in.

It was certainly a more athletic position than Alex would have proposed, but not unpleasant. On the contrary – there was something fitting about Peter's pose here among the arching branches and the rising and falling ground. Alex was utterly surrounded, Peter's cock in his mouth, hot and thick and slick with precome, Peter's hairy thighs underneath his palms, the shivering curve of his spine mirroring their impromptu bower.

"Alex," Peter said. He had his hands braced on the hillock, giving him the stability to rock slowly into Alex's mouth. "Oh, Alex, yes, that's — so lovely." Alex hummed and he could feel the way Peter's shiver deepened. 

With a little bit of wiggling, he got Peter's trousers pushed down further, touching each fresh inch of skin as it was revealed. Soon his fingertips had reached the edge of Peter's hole, pressing in a little with each of Peter's thrusts, just enough to tease. "Oh," Peter said. "Oh god. Yeah, just—" 

Alex loved the way he always went half-verbal when Alex was fingering him. He went a little further, spreading Peter open, wondering if he'd taste like honeysuckle if Alex kissed him there.

"A— a little more," said Peter. His voice was no louder than the movement of the vines in the wind. "Please."

Alex obliged, pushing in deeper, fucking Peter with his fingers even as Peter fucked his mouth in turn. Then they were moving almost in sync; Alex felt the rhythm thrumming in his veins. 

"God, yes," Peter said. "Alex. You— I— Christ, I'm close."

Alex hummed again, half acknowledgment and half encouragement; it appeared to be enough, because Peter's thighs were trembling, his breath rasping in his throat. "Alex," he said, "Alex, I— _fuck_ ," and he came with a sharp thrust into Alex's mouth, groaning, shaking so hard that it felt like he might fall apart.

Alex held him through it, fingers still inside him but the other hand caressing the soft inside of his thigh.

When Peter had recovered enough to let them separate, he pulled away with an apologetic smile, cleaning his dirty hands on his shirt and then using one to wipe away the sweat and saliva and come on Alex's face. He shuffled downwards, tugged up his drawers, and rested his forehead against Alex's.

"Very nice," he said, which made Alex laugh. 

"Very nice indeed," he said. Neither of them said anything more; Alex lost himself a while in the sound of the wind and the slowly cooling air on his skin. Eventually, though, his muscles began to cramp up and he had to move.

Peter shifted off him. "You all right?"

"Might've done my back in a little," Alex admitted, stretching his arms up over his head. "The hillock _seemed_ romantic in the beginning, but I think it magically developed some rocks along the way."

"You're telling me the hill got hard while we were doing that."

Alex groaned. "No. I said no such thing."

"I wonder if there's folklore about it," Peter said, grinning. "We've got standing stones that dance in the moonlight, so why not voyeuristic hillsides?"

"Why would they be voyeuristic?"

"Maybe they just wanted to get their rocks off."

Alex groaned again. "Stop," he said. "Please stop. For the sake of my sanity." He rolled over and put his hand over Peter's mouth. "Absolutely no more."

Peter snorted with amusement, then turned his face into Alex's palm and began kissing it softly. After a moment he sighed. "Are we still taking some of this back for Ruth to turn into syrup?"

"That was the idea," said Alex. "Why?"

"Every time I taste it or smell it, I'll be thinking about this."

"That _was_ the idea," Alex drawled.

Peter lifted his head and gave him a look. "You're a devil," he said admiringly, and then tugged Alex up on top of him, kissing him once more.


End file.
